


Arya Stark and the Green-Eyed Monster

by longclawislightbringer (Bespectacled_Geek)



Series: Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titallandus [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Arya really wants some punch, Background Jon Snow/Sansa Stark - Freeform, But it's there, Dany the Matchmaker, Dress shopping, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Arya Stark, Oblivious Gendry Waters, POV Arya Stark, POV Gendry, Quidditch, Sorry Ygritte fans, The Starks are all in Gryffindor, Work In Progress, Yule Ball (Harry Potter), robb the matchmaker, these two idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-09-28 09:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17180180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bespectacled_Geek/pseuds/longclawislightbringer
Summary: Now that Jon and Sansa have finally gotten their act together, all Arya Stark wants to do is focus on winning the house cup, but meddling questions from Robb and Dany and an encounter at the Yule Ball have her thinking about her best friend Gendry in a whole new light.





	1. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> It's been a few months, but I'm back. I'm so excited for you to read the next part of my Hogwarts AU. :)
> 
> Next chapter should be out this weekend because it's Christmas-themed and I want to get it out in the timely manner.
> 
> As for the last two chapters, I'm gonna say sometime in January? I have less things to do now so they won't take quite as long as these two did. 
> 
> Once again, thanks to my lovely beta sansapotter for taking a look at this!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Please leave a comment if you've got the time; I love to hear from you.

Looping a hair tie around her ponytail, Arya barreled out of the girl's locker room. Robb would kill her if she were late for their most crucial match of the season. They finally had a shot at beating Slytherin since Margaery's brother Loras had graduated. She slowed her pace as she approached the door that lead to the Gryffindor team tent where they kept their brooms and equipment when she noticed that her boot laces had come untied. As she bent to tie them, she heard Alys’ voice come muffled through the door.

“Don’t look now, but it looks like Jon’s moved on.”

Someone muttered unintelligible curse words. Arya heard the soft pitter-patter of footsteps on turf as that person crossed the tent. Arya rose without a sound to peer through the glass pane at the tent. Ygritte and Alys stood at the flap of the tent, staring into the crowd.

“By the old gods, I knew he had a thing for that insufferable Ice Queen Stark bitch,” Ygritte growled, knuckles white and shaking. Arya clenched the doorknob tightly. “I can’t stand her. She’s probably only after him for the ’prestige’,” Ygritte gagged.

“That’s it,” Arya muttered to herself. Flushed, she clenched her fist and prepared to storm through the door to give Ygritte the punch in the face she deserved. As she twisted the doorknob, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her back.

“Oof!” She landed against a broad chest. Smoke wafted over her; she recognized her best friend instantly.

“Hey!” Arya grumbled, struggling to loosen his grip. “Let me go, you stupid bull!”

“Shh!” Gendry shushed her, pointing to the window. Arya glared at him but turned her attention to the girls in the tent

“Watch your tongue,” Alys barked. “I don't think Robb or Arya would appreciate you talking that way about their sister. Besides, Sansa’s always been nice to me.”

Arya relaxed a little as Gendry put her down.

“They just make me so angry,” Ygritte responded. “He should be with me instead of her.”

“Channel your aggression into the game,” Alys replied. “Look lively; our fearless captain will be here any minute.”

Arya turned back to her expectant friend.

“Why did you stop me?” She huffed. “Ygritte was way out of line.”

"Because," Gendry smirked. "This game is really important to your brother, and you would have kicked yourself if you ruined it for him. You can get back at Ygritte after we beat Slytherin."

“You're right.”

“Of course I am.” Gendry pushed past her to open the door. “After you, milady.”

"Don't call me that," Arya scowled, walking to her locker to grab the rest of her equipment. In the other corner, Alys ran through some warm-up stretches while Ygritte angrily wrestled with her arm guard. Gendry rushed to his locker to put on his shoulder pads as Arya unlocked hers. Her bat tumbled out as she rummaged through the disorganized pile of stuff. Hand closing around one of her arm guards, she quickly tied it on as Robb burst through the door followed closely by Harry Harding and Smalljon Umber.

“Alright, look alive people,” Robb bellowed. The team paused to listen to their captain. "I'm not saying this is the most important game of the season, but this is the most important game of the season. Gryffindor hasn't beaten Slytherin in six years, but we finally have a chance." The team gathered around him. "Joffrey is a weak seeker, but the team is good at scoring. Arya, Smalljon, I don't want to see him anywhere near the snitch until we're ahead. Chasers, you've got your work cut out for you, but I believe in you. Let's go win this! On three." The team formed a circle and laid their hands on top of his.

“One, two, three, Gryffindor!” They shouted. Arya caught Ygritte’s eye as they all went back to their preparations and sent her a withering glare before turning back to her mess of a locker.

“Now where is that other guard?” She pulled out a leaf and shrugged. Gendry, already dressed in his keeper’s helmet and pads, reached past her to pull the item in question out of the recesses of her locker and dangle it in front of her.

“You’re welcome.” He smirked.

“Thanks.” Arya snarked, snatching it from his hands. She slapped it on and grabbed her broom and bat. “Let’s roll.” They joined the other players at the tent flaps and looked out over the pitch. Students from all house filled the stands. Arya quickly scanned the crowd for the rest of her siblings. Sure enough, Rickon and Bran, decked out in red and gold, cheered loudly when they spotted her. Sansa, much more subdued but still loyal to their house, looked quite cozy curled on Jon’s arm. She waved and gave them a big thumbs up. As Arya waved back, she noticed Ygritte glaring at Sansa; Arya’s blood boiled.

A whistle blew. Coach Tarth, in referee robes, stood in the center of the pitch, gesturing for the teams to come out.

"Welcome, students and teachers," Margaery's best announcer voice echoed across the stadium as both teams entered the field "to today'a match. Gryffindor, lead by seventh-year Robb Stark, faces off against Slytherin, captained by seventh-year Ramsay Bolton. Robb is joined on Gryffindor by Ygritte Wild, Harry Hardyng, Alys Karstark, Gendry Waters, Smalljon Umber and Arya Stark.” Arya gave a wave to the roaring crowd when Margaery said her name. “Ramsay is joined by Joffrey Baratheon, Myranda Kennel, Elinor Tyrell, Little Walder Frey, Big Walder Frey, and Elmar Frey.”

The two teams circled around Coach Tarth.

“Alright, you lot, I want a clean game and no serious injuries. Mount your brooms please.” Arya scrambled to her assigned position on the field and climbed onto her broom.

The whistle blew, and they were off.

* * *

Arya soared above the pitch to get a better look at the game. For the past two hours, the two houses had been neck and neck. Every time a Gryffindor chaser managed to sink the quaffle through the ring, Slytherin came right back with their own point. She wiped the sweat from her brow. Below, Robb, a blur of red, zipped after Joffrey. They’d spotted the snitch sometime after the first half hour but managed to lose it in the ensuing scuffle. A red-headed speck that Arya assumed was Alys had possession of the quaffle. She dodged a bludger before lobbing the quaffle through a hoop. The faint sounds of cheering and Margaery’s magnified voice echoed over the stadium. “That’s another ten points for Gryffindor, bringing the score up to 120 v. 120.” Joffrey suddenly veered off in a different direction, with Robb following close behind. They had spotted the snitch again.

“Seven help me,” Arya muttered before dropping back into the fray. The air rushed past her as she fell, whipping her ponytail into her face until she kicked on the brakes, landing right in the middle of the action. The snitch zipped past her ear.

"Out of the way, Stark bitch." Joffrey elbowed her as he zipped past, sending her spinning. She braked in time to see Robb zoom after his rival. On her other side, Elinor rocketed by holding the quaffle, dogged by the other chasers as she headed straight for the center hoop.

“Tyrell’s on her way to the goalpost and Joffrey’s gaining on the snitch, with Robb hot on his tail. Unless Gryffindor can pull a miracle, it looks like it’s Slytherin’s game.”

"Drat," Arya cursed. In no way could she stop Joffrey and prevent Elinor from scoring at the same time. She didn't even have a bludger to hit. She squinted down the field at Smalljon before signaling him. He sent a bludger careening down the pitch. In the split second before the bludger arrived, she glanced once more at the Goalposts at the end of the field. Gendry nodded. Arya knew what she had to do.

As the bludger rushed toward her, she readied herself, twirling the bat handle to find the right grip. With all her might, she swung at the approaching ball, sending it ricocheting off the bat straight toward Joffrey. The force of her swing knocked her back a meter. She glanced back at the goalpost where Elinor readied to toss in the quaffle. Time almost seemed to slow down as the Quaffle soared through the air toward the empty hoop and Joffrey reached for the snitch. Arya held her breath. Gendry zoomed in from the side to block the shot with his broom as the bludger smacked into Joffrey's shoulder with a sickening crack that she heard all the way across the field. The bludger snapped back, sailing into the group of chasers crowded around the goal. It smacked Ygritte in the face. Arya laughed; it served her right.

Arya turned back to the seekers. As Joffrey crumpled and almost fell off his broom, the crowd roared behind her. Robb soared past Joffrey, stretching his fingers past the edge of the broom until they closed around the snitch. Arya let out her breath and sighed in relief.

“I don’t believe this!” Margaery shouted into her microphone as Robb brandished the snitch on a victory lap. “Robb Stark’s caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins!” Arya took a deep breath before diving to join the rest of her celebrating team on the ground. Ygritte was still rubbing her face where the bludger left a red indent.

“We did it!” She shouted with a wide grin as she alighted on the grass and ran to Gendry. He dropped his broom when she vaulted into his arms. “I can’t believe we did it!” She giggled as he twirled her around before setting her down.

“Good call, Stark,” Smalljon pounded her fist.

Robb finally alighted on the pitch, still holding the winning snitch. “I’m so proud of all of you,” He pulled her into a side hug, “especially you two.” Arya beamed at Gendry on her other side. “What a play!”

"It was a team effort," Arya smirked.

“Nevertheless, you did a fantastic job.” Robb ruffled her hair. “Come on, let’s wash up before the party that they’re definitely not throwing for us in the common room tonight.”

* * *

“I’m going to get more butterbeer; do you want any? ” Gendry asked over the din of the crowd.

“Nope, I’m good,” Arya glanced down at her mostly full mug. “Don’t take too long, though. You know I can’t stand half the people here.” She scanned the crowd and smirked. Ygritte’s bruise from the bludger was starting to purple through her makeup.

“ I promise,” Gendry winked as he turned. “Milady.” He plunged into the crowd with a salute.

“Idiot,” Arya grumbled, shaking her head.

“Wow,” a voice came from over her shoulder. “He’s got it so bad for you.”

Arya whirled.

Well, as much as she could without bumping into someone in the crowded Common Room. Jon’s Aunt Daenerys stood behind her sipping Pumpkin Juice out of a cauldron mug.

“By the Old Gods, Dany! And they say I’m the sneaky one. How did you get in here?”

“Your brother and sister invited me,” she explained with a wave of her hand. With her regal air, speaking to Daenerys was always like talking to a Queen. An easily excitable Queen, but a queen nonetheless. “I can’t believe you can be so unmoved by his obvious affection. I probably would have swooned in your position.” She craned her neck, searching for someone in the crowd.

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

Daenerys looked at her like she had sprouted two heads.

“Gendry, of course. He’s clearly besotted with you.”

Arya spat out her butterbeer.

“What? I can’t—” Arya choked out through bursts of laughter.”—believe—you would even—think that.” She wiped a tear from her eye.

“So you really think that he doesn't have feelings for you?”

“Nope, he's my best friend; it's crazy to think that.” She let out another giggle.

“But he was flirting with you!”

Arya chortled again. “He was not flirting with me.”

"Alright, you're clearly the expert on your best friend," Daenerys tossed her hair smugly in a way that indicated she did not believe a single word she had uttered. She glanced out at the crowd again before her eyes widened."Well, that was a nice chat, but I think I see your brother and sister calling me over. Ta-ta for now!" Just as quickly as Daenerys had disturbed her thoughts, she had skedaddled away, shimmying through the crowd to join Robb, Sansa, and Jon in front of the fireplace.

Arya blinked. Where had that come from? Daenerys must clearly be as blind as a bat to think Gendry had any interest in her. She downed the rest of her butterbeer in one swig.

"What was that about?" Gendry asked when he finally reappeared at her side, startling her from her reverie.

“What? Oh, nothing. Dany just wanted to discuss some . . . girl things.”

Gendry snorted.

“Alright then, if you don’t want to tell me.” He winked.

This was so stupid.

“Don’t worry about it. It was just some stupid idea she had. Anyway, I—”

"Hey, Arya!" Their friend Hot Pie sidled up to them and clapped her on the back. "Great play today!"

Arya breathed a sigh of relief. Gendry raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the issue any further.

"Thanks, man," Arya gave him a side hug, trying to avoid crushing the basket he held in his other hand.

"Sorry, I'm so late. I was baking these to celebrate your big win." He grinned as he lifted two steaming lion-shaped loaves of bread from the basket. "I know you're not too big on lions, but I figured since you both play for Gryffindor it would be appropriate."

“Wow,” Arya gasped as she snatched a hot loaf from his hand while Gendry took the other. “You’ve really outdone yourself. I love it!” The smell of cinnamon and cloves wafted up as she broke her loaf with a satisfying crunch in half to watch the steam rise. “This smells heavenly.”

“It tastes heavenly,” Gendry moaned with a full mouth.

Hot Pie beamed.

She broke off a piece; it almost melted in her mouth.

"Thanks so much! Bread this good deserves more butterbeer. Anybody need some?"

“I’m good.” Gendry nodded.

“I could use a mug,” Hot Pie answered.

"Two Butterbeers coming up; here, hold my bread while I'm gone."

She put the rest of her loaf back into the basket, before diving headlong into the crowd, her own mug in tow. She’d just grab one for Hot Pie up at the keg.

"How did all of these people get in here?" she grumbled to herself as she stumbled past a third couple locked in a passionate post-victory embrace. "Half of them aren't even in Gryffindor." At last, she arrived in front of the keg of butterbeer next to the cauldron of pumpkin juice. She grabbed an empty tankard from the pile on the table to stick it under the spigot. The butterscotch scent drifted up as the butterbeer flowed into the metal mug.

“Hey sis,” Robb greeted her.

"By the seven!" Arya shouted, almost spilling the butterbeer. "How can you sneak up on a person in a party?" She glared at her brother as she turned the spigot off and switched mugs.

“Practice,” Robb shrugged. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you: what do you think about Gendry?”

“Dear old gods, why does everyone want to know about Gendry today? We’re just friends.”

She turned the spout off again.

“Really?” Robb raised a brow. “Then it doesn’t bother you that he’s talking to Elinor Tyrell right now? I heard she just broke up with Alyn Ambrose.”

“What?” Arya whirled back toward the party. She found her friends back in the corner she had left them in, talking with Elinor. She rocked nervously back in forth of Gendry, twirling a strand of her curly mouse brown hair. “How did she get in? We just beat her.”

Elinor said something to Gendry. Arya could hear her giggle from across the room.

“Oh you know, Sansa invited Margaery and Margaery invited her cousin.”

Gendry flushed pink at something Elinor said, before nodding. Megga squealed and hugged him before flouncing back to her friends.

“Wonder what that was about,” Robb commented. “Well, it shouldn’t matter, since you guys are just friends.” He clapped Arya on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work on the pitch. I’ll see you in the library tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Arya muttered. She grabbed the two full mugs and headed back to her friends, trying to ignore that weird tight feeling in her stomach.


	2. The Yule Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya comes to a startling realization at the Yule Ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the fastest I've ever updated a fic . . . lol don't get used to it. I wanted to get this out while it was still technically Christmas (Christmas does last twelve days after all.) This chapter was a lot of fun to write-- I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> As usual, an enormous thank you to my beta sansapotter, and please leave a comment if you've got the time. I'd love to know what you think. :)

“Pumpkin pasties,” Arya grunted when she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady after a grueling Quidditch practice, Gendry following close behind. The Fat Lady harrumphed, but the portrait swung open regardless. Arya limped into the common room, heading straight for the big red couch in front of the fireplace. She flopped onto it with a satisfied sigh. Her hair, still wet from her shower after practice, puddled onto the pillow under her head.

“My brother really needs to get a hobby,” she groaned. She ached like all of her bones had been pulled out of her body and replaced with lead.

“Quidditch is his hobby,” Gendry grumbled as he lowered, himself, wincing, into the big armchair next to the couch near her head.

“True.” As Arya snuggled into the couch, a piece of parchment crinkled under her back. “That’s weird.” She wiggled around to pull the parchment out.

“What’s that?” Gendry asked.

Arya turned the parchment over to read the scant lines.

"It's just a note reminding me that I said I'd go dress shopping for the Yule Ball with Sansa and Dany tomorrow." She tossed the note aside and sighed. "Is it really only two weeks until the end of the term?"

“Yep,” Gendry groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“At least I’ll finally get to try that famous Yule Ball Punch.” Arya fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. Dany’s words from the party a couple of weeks ago sprang into her mind unbidden. She shook the thought away before looking at him upside down. “I’ve been meaning to ask you; we’re still going together, right? Like every stupid mandatory event we have to go to?”

“Oh.” Gendry turned pink. “Actually, Elinor Tyrell asked me to go with her.”

“What?” Ignoring the protests of her sore muscles, she shot up off the couch, pivoting to face him. “When did that happen?”

“At the victory party a couple of weeks ago.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you’re not cool with that I can tell her I won’t be able to go with her—”

“No no no,” Arya interrupted. “I’m happy for you. Really.” She smiled. Rather, she hoped she was smiling. “I hope you guys have a great time together.”

"Good," he responded, but his expression remained inscrutable.

Arya slumped back onto the couch. “I guess I can ask Hot Pie to be my date…”

* * *

 

Arya glared at her reflection in the floor length mirror at Madam Malkin’s. The garish fuchsia dress's ballgown tulle skirt dwarfed her, and the enormous puff sleeves did nothing to hide that fact.

“Tell me why I’m doing this again?” She huffed as she tore through the dressing room curtain into the room where Sansa and Dany waited, their own dresses each on an empty section of the sofa.

Sansa stared at her, mouth agape.

“Well… that dress is certainly . . . something.”

“Something?” Dany snickered before it turned into full blown laughter. “You look like the color pink threw up on you.”

“Hardy har har,” Arya deadpanned. “That’s the last of them. Guess I don’t have to go to the Yule Ball after all.” She grimaced when the dress swished as she turned to head back into the dressing room.

“Wait,” Dany shouted. “I’ve got one more I think you’ll like. Where is it?” She dove into the pile of discarded dresses, flinging them left and right. Some of the dresses landed on Sansa’s head, mussing her perfect hair. Arya stifled a giggle. “Sorry,” Dany muttered without looking up. “Here it is.” Triumphant, she pulled a goldenrod A-line from the pile. “Try this one,” she tossed the dress into Arya’s arms.

“Fine. One more and then we’re going back.” Arya shut the curtain behind herself. Hanging the yellow dress on the hook on the wall, she braced herself to remove the pink monstrosity. She had to bend over and reach behind several times before she finally got hold of the zipper. It slid down the bodice easily. Letting out a sigh of relief, Arya straightened before reaching around the other way to finish pulling the zipper down. She tugged once, twice, but the zipper would not budge. It snagged on a piece of tulle from the skirt.

“Seven hells,” Arya whispered.

“You okay in there?” Sansa’s muffled voice came through the curtain.

“Everything’s—” she delicately pulled the fabric loose and yanked the zipper down. “—peachy.”

“Just let us know if you need any help.”

“Will do,” Arya yelled as she shrugged out of the dress. The cold air of the store raised goosebumps on her skin as the dress pooled at her feet. Stepping out of it, she kicked the dress to the side.

“Don’t look at yourself until you get out here; I want to see your reaction,” Dany called out to her.

“Whatever.” Arya barely glanced at the goldenrod gown when she pulled it off the hanger to slip it over her head. It fit like a glove. She adjusted the chiffon cape thing that dangled over her shoulder before sweeping up the skirt and dragging herself through the door.

“There, I tried it on; can we go now?” Arya crossed her arms.

“Not before you look at yourself.” Dany whipped her around by the shoulders to face the mirror.

Arya gawked at the girl in the mirror. Slowly, she uncrossed her arms, revealing the pearl beading along her waist.

“Wow.”

She twirled a little. The skirt floated with her, swishing back into place.

“Arya, you look amazing!” Sansa exclaimed.

“I guess it looks alright.” She jumped. “And it seems like I can move in it.”

“Alright?” Dany yelled. “You’re gonna knock ’em all dead. This is it.”

“I do like it; I can’t wait to see the look on—” Arya stopped herself.

Dany arched an eyebrow at her.

“—Hot Pie’s face,” she finished. “He’s never seen me in a dress before.”

“I thought you were going with Gendry like you always do?” Sansa asked.

“He’s got a date.” Arya shrugged with forced nonchalance. The words tasted like ash in her mouth. Stupid Elinor stealing her friends. “I’m gonna change.” Flustered, she dashed back into the dressing room. After one final appraisal, she pulled on the zipper and let the dress fall to the floor. She placed the delicate dress back on the hanger before slipping back into her T-shirt and jeans. She lifted the hanger from the hook and draped the dress over her arm to take it to check out.

It really was a beautiful dress.

So what if it was Gendry’s favorite color?

* * *

 

Arya blinked at the made-up stranger in the mirror. Behind her, Sansa opened another bobby pin and stuck it into the respectable bun she had somehow created from Arya’s unruly mane. She adjusted the loose tendrils of Arya’s bangs until they curled around her face.

“Hold still and close your eyes,” Sansa ordered as she reached for an enormous bottle of hairspray from the vanity table. Arya obeyed. The flowery scent wafted over her as her sister sprayed her entire head and rubbed some stray hairs down for good measure. “There. All Done.” Arya’s eyes snapped open as Sansa stepped back to admire her handiwork.

“Great; let’s get this over with.” Arya hopped off her stool to snatch her sparkly penguin purse from the vanity.

“Something’s got your knickers in a twist,” Dany commented from where she reclined on Sansa’s bed. She snapped the book in her hand closed. “Whatever could it be?”

“It’s nothing,” Arya growled. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that her best friend was attending the ball with someone else. Nothing whatsoever. “I’m just ready to go.”

“Arya, don’t worry about anything.” Sansa picked her sheer lavender shawl off the end of her bed and draped it over her shoulders. “Tonight is going to be grand.”

Sansa glanced at herself one last time in the full-length-gilded mirror on the door, wringing her hands.

“Do you think Jon will like it?” She turned to the side to examine her profile.

“Jon would even love you in a burlap sack,” Arya scoffed, “now let’s go.” She dragged her sister away from the mirror and out the door, with Dany in close pursuit. The walk to the staircase in front of the Great Hall was brief.

“Wait.” Dany stopped them as they started to go down the stairs. “We should go down one at a time.” Arya rolled her eyes.

“Fine. I’ll go first.” She conceded.

She slid her hand down the cold stone banister, straightening her back as she made deliberate steps to avoid tripping on her silver heeled sandals.

In a moment, she rounded the corner to the landing. Hot Pie, Jon, and Drogo waited at the bottom of the stairs. Behind them, two pine wreaths dotted with cranberries and pine cones decorated the oak doors to the Great Hall.

“Hey,” she greeted them as she began her descent, picking up the skirt of her dress with one hand.

“Wow Arya,” Hot Pie responded. “You look great!”

“Pick your jaw off the floor. And don’t get used to it.” She glared at them. Losing her concentration, she tottered on the bottom step and cursed Sansa for convincing her to wear these ridiculous strappy sandals. Hot Pie laughed.

After reaching the bottom, she stomped over to their dates.

“Nice dress,” Jon remarked as she took her place in between them.

“Thanks; Dany picked it out for me.”

A sly smile crept over his face.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

"No reason." The sound of heels clacking on stone turned their attention back to the staircase. Dany, resplendent as ever in a sleek silver dress, took certain steps down the stairs, her dress trailing behind her like a Queen's mantle. A dragon broach at each shoulder attached a blood red cape to the dress. A pewter dragon pendant hung above just above the neckline of her dress. Drogo smiled as she approached.

“Moon of my life,” he greeted her as she stepped off the stairs.

“My sun and stars,” she responded. He took both of her hands in his and kissed them.

Everyone turned back to the staircase when the sound of heels once again heralded someone's arrival. Sansa rounded the corner, half of her hair braided into a bun at the crown of her head, with the rest of her locks hanging free. She paused at the landing when she spotted Jon, a faint pink blush tinting her cheek.

For his part, Jon stood slack-jawed as she floated down the stairs, lavender gown sparkling with every step. Her heels clicked with every step until she arrived in front of them.

“Well?” she asked anxiously.

Arya elbowed Jon. He flinched.

“You look . . . stunning," Jon stuttered, bringing one of her hands to his lips. Sansa turned a brighter shade of red.

Arya gagged. “And I thought you guys were bad before you got together.” She turned to Hot Pie. “Come on, let’s leave the lovebirds and head in before all the punch is gone.”

Looping her arm through his, she dragged him to the double doors. The doors swung inward with a loud creak.

“The decorating committee’s really outdone itself this year,” Hot Pie remarked. Speechless, Arya nodded in agreement. The entire hall twinkled in the blue tinted candlelight from the floating candles. A blue fir tree, trimmed with blown glass stars and moons towered over the students in the corner. A small orchestra flanked both sides of the magnificent ice sculpture of the Red Keep on the dais where the teachers usually sat. Silver blue drapes hung along the entire back wall. Garlands decorated every mantlepiece above roaring fires.

Arya scanned the rest of the hall. Several round tables with white lace tablecloths surrounded by silver cushioned chairs had been set up on the sides for the consumption of the sumptuous spread of refreshments, including the fabled Yule Ball punch.

“Score.” Arya smiled. Her smile faltered when she noticed Gendry on the floor, twirling Elinor in his arms. Arya gripped Hot Pie’s arm tighter. Elinor whispered in his ear as they danced. Gendry laughed. That same unexplainable feeling of dread coiled in her stomach. An inscrutable look passed over Gendry’s face when he finally looked over his date’s head in her direction. She plastered on a fake smile and waved to him.

“Where should we sit?” Hot Pie interrupted her thoughts while he also waved to their friend. Arya pursed her lips. She tore her gaze from Gendry to peruse the tables for empty seats. She spotted her brother Robb at one with his date Jeyne Westerling. He waved them over.

“Go sit with my brother,” Arya thrust her penguin bag into Hot Pie’s arms and pointed the table out to him. “I’m gonna grab us some punch.”

She left and darted around the dancers in a discreet beeline for the punch bowl, or as well as she could in her blasted heels.

"Curse you, Sansa," she mumbled to herself. At last, the reached the punch bowl, a multi-tiered glass fountain. The glittering pink drink fizzed and cascaded from one tier to the next. Arya licked her lips.

"Come to mama." She ladled the frothing drink into two frosted glass cups until the punch almost spilled over the brims.

Behind her, the dancers concluded their dance with one final spin and a bow to their partners. As the song came to a halt, they clapped for the orchestra.

Arya double fisted the glasses. Taking fast, dainty steps through the crowd to avoid spilling even one drop of the precious punch, Arya calculated the fastest path to her table. She almost ran into someone when he deliberately intercepted her by blocking her way. Even in her heels, she only came up to his chest. A faint smoky smell drifted over her.

“I knew you would head straight for the punch.” Gendry laughed, a deep throaty sound that sent strange tingles shooting down to her toes. She tilted her head to look up at him. His blue eyes filled with mirth. Arya almost lost herself looking into them before the general chatter of the students brought her back.

“Haha, yep,” Arya responded with a nervous giggle before it could get too awkward. “You know I like holiday beverages.” She paused another moment before voicing the question pressing on her mind. “How’s your date going?” She asked, trying to sound indifferent but coming off a little colder than she intended. She made a pretense of glancing around the hall. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Robb and Dany at the table, looking at them and whispering conspiratorially to each other. Seriously, what in Westeros did they have to talk about?

"It's great," Gendry answered. "Elinor's a really nice girl when we're not facing each other on the pitch."

“Sure.” Arya snorted. “Are you certain she’s not just trying to get insights into our Quidditch strategy?”

“What? Where would you get an idea like that?” He scratched his head. “She just wants to get to know me . . . Wait a minute.” He smirked. “Are you jealous?”

“What? No,” Arya spluttered, indignant. “I am not jealous. Definitely not.” The distinct sound of a spell whooshed over her head. She spotted Robb walking toward them, whistling. She glared daggers at him, willing him to go away. She turned back to Gendry. “That would be crazy. I just want to make sure she’s not using you.” That same incomprehensible expression passed over his face again.

“If you say so.”

Robb appeared over Gendry’s shoulder without warning.

“Don’t look now, but you’re standing under the mistletoe.”

“Go away Robb, he’s got a date.” Arya snarled. Her brother winked at her and sauntered off, hands in his pockets.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Arya brushed it off. “It’s just a silly tradition anyway. You should probably get back to your date.”

“No, it’s fine. I can kiss your cheek.” Gendry leaned in; Arya’s heart raced. His hand rested on her arm as his hot breath ghosted her cheek for a moment. Butterflies swirled in her stomach. The moment, though short, seemed to last forever, before his lips made contact.

“By the way, you look beautiful tonight, Arya.” He whispered in her ear.

She flushed as pink as the punch in her hands.

“Thanks,” she stuttered.

“See you later,” he mock saluted her as he turned and winked before adding, “milady.” As he strolled away, the orchestra began the first strains of the next dance.

Arya froze in the center of the Great Hall while the dancers twirled around her, clutching the glasses in her hands so tightly that she thought they might break. Her cheeks still burned as her heart hammered erratically against her ribcage. Almost automatically, she raised a hand to touch the cheek he had kissed before she remembered the glass in her hand. She willed her traitorous heart to slow down, but it refused to obey. A wave of revelation passed over her.

“By the seven, I’m an idiot,” she whispered to herself as the dancers passed by. “I’m in love with Gendry.”


	3. Unexpected Occurrences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya decides to tell Gendry about her feelings on the train back to Hogwarts after the holidays, but Gendry has some news for her that throws her for a loop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait; this chapter ended up being a monster so it took much longer to write. 
> 
> As always, thanks to my beta sansapotter, who is on AO3 and tumblr.

Chapter Three: Unexpected Occurrences

Students crowded the corridor of the Hogwarts Express. Arya shuffled past, lugging her maroon suitcase to her favorite compartment, number fifteen on the third car. Sliding open, the door thunked against the side wall. Arya dragged her suitcase over the threshold before closing the door behind her. Tossing the suitcase onto the rack above her head, she flung herself onto the blue couch on one side next to the window. She unlooped the scarf from her neck and divested herself of her coat, chucking it onto the empty seat next to her. A piece of parchment crinkled in her back pocket. She removed the paper from her pocket, turning it over in her hands. Gendry’s response to her last letter had been brief, just a few lines on the horrific tension between his father and his stepmother on the behavior of his half-brother, and then an addendum that he had something to tell her too. She took a deep breath.

The soft click of the opening door startled her from her reverie. She crumpled the note to stash it back in her pocket before turning her attention to the shadowy figure at the door.

“Milady,” Gendry nodded to her as he entered the compartment, carrying his case like it weighed no more than a feather. He hefted the case onto the luggage rack with ease and sank into the seat cushion opposite her with a satisfied smile. Arya almost forgot to breathe.

"Gendry, I . . ." The words would not come out. Swallowing, she shifted in her seat. Gendry searched her face; her heart raced even faster. "I . . ."

The door to the compartment slid open again.

"Hold that thought," Gendry suggested as Hot Pie yanked his bag into the compartment, followed closely by Elinor Tyrell.

"Hey Arya," Hot Pie greeted her as stored his bag and joined Gendry on the couch across from her. Elinor glided in, sliding the door shut behind her and latching it. Arya begrudgingly removed her jacket from the seat so Elinor could sit down.

“Let me get that for you.” Gendry sprang from his seat to help Elinor with her suitcase.

Elinor smiled shyly, handing him the case.

Arya leaned around Gendry when he placed it onto the luggage rack above her head to send Hot Pie a confused look.

Hot Pie shrugged his shoulders in response.

“Thanks, honey.” Elinor cooed.

“Honey?” Hot Pie mouthed to her. Arya froze. She could feel the blood draining from her face as Elinor settled into the seat next to her.

The train whistle blew, loud and sharp, like the scream in Arya's head.

“I hope you don’t mind Elinor joining us for the train ride,” Gendry began, “but I wanted to introduce her to you guys properly—as my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Arya’s stomach dropped as the wheels squeaked. The Hogwarts Express lurched forward.

“I’m so excited to get to know you.” Elinor smiled. “Gendry’s told me so much about you both.”

Arya plastered on her fake smile again as the train picked up speed.

“That’s so wonderful,” she squeaked through gritted teeth.

“It’s nice to meet you, Elinor. Officially, I mean.” Hot Pie stuck out a hand for Elinor to shake. Elinor laughed, taking his hand.

“Likewise.”

Elinor flashed Arya a dazzling smile.

“I hope we’ll be great friends.” She stuck out her hand again. Arya glanced between Elinor’s outstretched hand and the earnest smile that stretched to her eyes. Warily, she took it. Elinor shook it fast in a vice-like grip.

“Great,” Gendry interjected, leaning against the back of his seat with his hands behind his head. “Now that that’s taken care of, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Arya blanched. Her erratic pulse picked up again. Gendry’s note in her back pocket felt like lead.

“It’s nothing,” she deflected, searching for a plausible excuse. “Just some new Quidditch strategies I wanted to discuss with you. Can’t very well talk about them now.” She huffed, crossing her arms.

Elinor laughed. Her laugh sounded like tinkling bells.

Arya hated it.

Not really. But why did Elinor have to be so willowy, tall, and perfect?

“Well,” Elinor announced. “I’m going to read. Let me know when the trolley stops by, won’t you honey?” She pulled the latest edition of _The Quibbler_ from her fashionable purse, curling up on the seat like a cat while the train chugged along the track.

“I’m going to take a nap,” Hot Pie piped up from the corner as he nestled into the seat cushion. The train rattled on beneath them.

Arya sent her best friend a glare that would wither a plant along with an accompanying scowl.

“What?” He mouthed.

Arya gestured with her head to Elinor.

Gendry squinted in confusion.

Arya smacked her forehead, before gesturing dramatically to the girl quietly reading next to her. Elinor turned a page.

Gendry shrugged in reply.

Arya huffed and crossed her arms.

It was going to be a long ride.

* * *

 Arya, Gendry, Hot Pie, and Elinor stood with a gaggle of students in the atrium outside the Great Hall. Arya tapped her foot against the floor.

“What’s gotten into you?” Gendry whispered to her.

“Nothing.” Arya crossed her arms.

“I can’t wait for this feast,” Hot Pie commented. “I’m absolutely famished.”

“That’s because you slept through the Trolley witch like you do every trip,” Gendry laughed. Elinor put a hand on his shoulder, giggling. Arya scowled.

The doors to the Great Hall swung open on silent hinges. Throngs of hungry students crushed into the room. Arya hung back, waiting for the crowd to pass.

“I’ll see you after the feast,” Elinor called to Gendry as she headed inside toward the Slytherin table.

Gendry started for the door, but Arya tugged on his sleeve, pulling him back.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” she whispered.

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he followed her into an alcove next to the stairs.

“Elinor? Really?” Arya huffed, hands on her hips.

“What’s wrong with her?” Gendry demanded. "She's really nice and clever, and she likes me." Arya crossed her arms. Gendry rolled his eyes. "Besides, it's not even—" He interrupted himself. “Never mind. It’s not important.” He looked her in the eyes; the butterflies came back. “You sure you’re not jealous?”

“What? No,” she spluttered, uncrossing her arms as her stomach did somersaults. She was so jealous she could punch a wall, but she would not tell Gendry that. Not now. Maybe not ever. She sighed. “I’m just upset that you sprung it on us. It felt like it came out of nowhere.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry.” He leaned against the wall. “I should have let you guys know earlier that I was talking to her. But Arry,” he put a hand on her shoulder and smiled softly, “never forget that you’re my best friend. No one can replace you.”

Arya almost lost herself in his eyes again. She was sure her starry-eyed expression would give her away, but Gendry either didn’t notice or neglected to comment. “Okay . . .” She breathed.

“I would like it you would give Elinor a chance though.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

“Alright. I’ll talk to her. But I can’t guarantee I’ll like her. Deal?” She stuck out her hand.

“Deal.” Gendry shook it. He grabbed her by the shoulders and steered her toward the Great Hall.

“Alright, let’s head into that feast so we can celebrate before the real studying begins.”

* * *

 Arya 's boots clunked on the stones as she crossed the courtyard on her way to the forge. Her breath came out in tiny bursts of air. Shivering in the late January wind, she pulled her scarf tighter. Her knapsack bounced against her leg with every step.

Passing a group of giggling first years, she made a sharp left toward the grounds. She shouldered her knapsack before starting down the stone steps to the forge. A pillar of smoke rose from the still obscured forge, located in the back corner of campus, away from any flammable buildings. Arya smiled.

The wind zipped around her, playing with the edges of her scarf. Gendry would be happy to see her; he’d tease her and call her “Milady.” With all the fuss around his new relationship with Elinor, they hadn’t had much time to just be Gendry and Arya, best friends for life. That and also the fact that she was so in love with him that she sometimes couldn’t talk around him. She frowned. Elinor better not be down there too.

The path swerved to the right. As Arya rounded the corner, the forge came into view. She stopped cold, mesmerized by the sight before her. Gendry held a piece of iron in the open flames. A trickle of sweat dripped down between his bare shoulders toward the divots in the small of his back. He left the metal in the forge, tossing his tongs to the side so he could wipe his brow. The ends of his hair lay plastered to his forehead. After a moment's breath, he pulled the tempered iron from the fire and took it to the anvil. Arya gulped as he turned. The muscles in his shoulders and arms rippled as he pounded the iron blow by blow into a sword.

Truly, Arya was an idiot.

She started down the path again.

The bang of the hammer on the soft metal rang out throughout the field. Sparks flew from the iron with every stroke. When Arya reached the bottom of the stairs, Gendry dunked the finished sword into a bucket of cold water. The metal hissed; steam rose into the air. He pulled the sword from the water and left it to cool on the table. Arya pulled her knapsack from her shoulder to rifle through it for some Quidditch plays.

“Gendry!” came a voice from just inside the door to the forge.

Arya stopped.

Elinor stepped into view. Gendry smiled at his girlfriend.

Arya imagined this might be what the sword felt like when the cold water doused its heat. Without a word to either of them, she turned on her heels and walked briskly back up the steps. Stupid Elinor. She stuck her knapsack strap into her mouth and let out a muffled scream. She stomped all the way back up the stairs and into the castle, ignoring the questioning glances of the other students.

As she stormed into the Gryffindor Common Room, Sansa looked up from her book.

“Arya, are you alright?”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Arya fumed, stalking through the chairs towards the stairs to the girl’s dormitories. She darted up the stairs in a fury. Slamming the door to her dorm shut behind her, she hurled herself into bed.

“I am such an idiot,” she mumbled into her pillow.

* * *

A few days later, the Great Hall filled with the quiet chatter of the few students awake well before breakfast. Arya sat alone at the Gryffindor table, staring at her Arithmancy notes. A few other early risers milled around the hall. The equations swam in front of her eyes as she tapped her pencil against her head.

“Why doesn’t this make sense?” She muttered to herself. Dainty footsteps approached the table. Arya didn’t bother to look up from her work.

“Good morning, Arya,” Elinor appeared over her shoulder.

Arya snapped her pencil in half. The pieces landed on the table.

Elinor flinched.

“Sorry, you startled me,” Arya apologized.

Elinor wrung her hands together. “I wondered if I could talk to you.”

“Sure, I guess.” Arya closed her notebook, motioning to the empty space on the bench beside her. Elinor paced back and forth. “What was it you wanted to talk about? Did Gendry do something stupid?” Elinor took the proffered seat.

“What? No. It’s just that. . .” Elinor worried her hands, before looking Arya in the eye. “Do you hate me?”

“What?” Arya furrowed her brow. “I don’t hate you. Where would you get that idea?”

"It's just that every time Gendry and I try to hang out with you, you make some excuse and leave."

Arya smacked her forehead. She had been avoiding them.

“I’m just going through something . . . personal. It's hard to explain. Gendry is one of the most important people in the world to me.” A soft smile crossed her face as she twirled a strand of her hair. “So as long as you don’t break his heart, you’re alright in my book.”

“I’m glad.” Elinor’s knowing smile gave Arya the heebie-jeebies; it seemed like Elinor had looked into her very soul and discovered the source of her distress. “I hope you know that I’m not trying to take him away from you.” Elinor winked. Arya blinked, confused. “Friends?” Elinor stuck out her hand.

“Friends,” Arya nodded as she gave a firm handshake.

“So, what seems to be the problem here?” Elinor asked, pulling Arya’s notebook across the table as she scooted closer.

“Arithmancy,” Arya explained. “I can never quite seem to get the hang of it.”

"Don't worry; my grandmother taught me a trick that makes it super easy to remember. Show me which problem you're having trouble with, and I'll teach it to you."

“Really? You’d do that?” Arya picked up the pieces of her pencil to hand one to Elinor.

“That’s what friends are for,” Elinor grinned. 

* * *

 Arya sprinted up the stairs, clutching the results of her Arithmancy exam in her hands. The staircase rumbled before swinging across the yawning chasm to the other side of the hall. She gripped the handrail, waiting at the top. When it crashed into place, Arya raced up the rest of the stairs to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

“Hello,” Arya greeted the Fat Lady as she climbed the last step to the landing.

“Nice to see you still have some manners on occasion,” the Fat Lady replied.

Arya rolled her eyes.

“Butterbeer.”

The door unlocked with a click and drifted open.

“See you next time.” Arya climbed inside the circular door to the common room.

“Goodbye little Stark,” the portrait swung closed.

Gendry and Robb occupied a pair of red armchairs near the fireplace. Robb pointed to something on the piece of parchment on the table in front of them.

Arya tiptoed, sticking closer to the other students on the opposite side of the room, hoping Robb and Gendry ignored her.

“Arya!” Robb shouted.

Too late. Arya pivoted to face them. “Hey Robb, Gendry. I didn’t see you there.” She made her way over.

“How’d you do on that Arithmancy test?” Gendry asked.

Arya flushed, stuttering, “Actually, I got an E.”

"That's wonderful." Stupid Gendry with his stupid pretty face and his stupid smile that made her melt like candle wax. "Elinor told me she helped you study."

Her smile faltered as an uneasiness built in her stomach.

“She was super helpful.” She turned to Robb. “Have you seen Sansa? There's something I need to talk to her about.”

“I think she’s in her room.”

"Thanks. See you guys later." Arya bolted to the stairs, feet pounding in time to her heartbeat. She leaped up the circular staircase to the dormitories, two steps at a time, until she stopped in front of the room for sixth-year girls. She knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came Sansa’s muffled reply.

“I need help,” Arya exclaimed as she barrelled through the door. Painting her nails, Sansa sat cross-legged on her bed across the room.

“What’s wrong?” Sansa capped the tiny bottle of periwinkle polish. “I thought you were confident about your Arithmancy test?”

“What.” Arya shook her head. “It’s not that. I actually got an E on that.” She handed Sansa her crumpled exam, the E inked in bright red at the top. “It’s more of a girl type problem.”

Sansa clutched her chest. “I never thought I’d see the day.” She patted the bed next to her. Arya jumped up, dangling her legs over the side.

“I have this—” Sansa inched closer, hanging on every word. Arya arched a brow."—friend, who recently discovered that she's been in love with her best friend for a really long time." Arya played with fraying threads on Sansa's embroidered quilt. "She wants to tell him how she feels, but she doesn't want to mess up their friendship, plus he just got a new girlfriend. And I . . ." Sansa's eyes widened at her mistake. "I mean, 'she,' thinks the new girlfriend is a nice person, so she doesn't want to mess up their relationship. What should she do?" Arya raised her head.

Sansa sat for a moment, mulling the questions over. At last, she spoke. "Speaking from personal experience, it's never a good idea to keep a secret like that from your best friend. If I were in her shoes, I would tell him, but make sure he understands that she respects his relationship and that she doesn't expect anything in return. But really it's up to her, and what she feels comfortable with."

Arya mulled it over, but the thought of telling Gendry made her stomach revolt. She would have to find another option.

* * *

 The next day, Arya rushed into the library, an unruly folder of parchment in her grasp. Robb looked up from his spot at the Stark’s usual table to wave her over. Shuffling awkwardly through the maze of desks and chairs, she sighed as she finally made it to her regular seat. Sansa glanced at her fluttering papers when Arya collapsed into her chair.

“Rough day?” Sansa asked, dipping her quill into the inkwell at the center of the table.

"You could say that," Arya responded, rifling through her papers for her Arithmancy notes. She pulled the correct sheet from the pack and stuffed the rest in her knapsack. Tapping her quill on her head, she stared at her notes. On a clean sheet of paper, she copied down the first homework problem from her textbook with precise, deliberate strokes. Sticking her tongue out her mouth, she painstakingly wrote down every step until she reached a solution.

A high-pitched giggle from across the room broke her concentration. Arya peeked up from her work, glimpsing Gendry and Elinor sitting at a table alone in the corner. Elinor placed her hand on Gendry's forearm, giggling again. Gritting her teeth, Arya narrowed her eyes.

“Did your friend ever figure out her problem?” Sansa asked. Arya loosened her grip on her quill.

“No,” she answered through tight lips as she returns to her homework.

“What’s this about a problem?” Danaerys appeared beside her, swinging her bag onto the table Arya hadn’t even noticed her walking up to the table. Someday she'd have to get stealth lessons from her.

"Arya's . . . friend has got boy troubles," Sansa supplied over Arya's head as Dany pulled out a chair. Dany raised one quizzical brow.

Arya slammed her quill down.

“She just doesn’t know what to do.” She hissed in a low voice.

“Color me intrigued.” Dany leaned in closer, whispering so Bran and the others couldn’t hear. “I need details before I can dispense some advice.”

“She discovered that she’s been in love with her best friend for a long time gone, but he obviously doesn’t love her back because he just got a new girlfriend.” Arya’s gaze darted around the table, avoiding Dany’s enthused stare. “She’s super jealous of the girlfriend, but trying not to be, because the girl’s super nice and wants to be friends. What should she do?”

“Hm, that is a conundrum,” Dany responded, rifling through her notebook.

“I said she should tell him the truth. He deserves to know, even if her feelings are unrequited.” Sansa interjected.

"You would say that," Dany drummed her fingers against the table. "If I were in her shoes, I'd go out with another guy. Either it makes him jealous, or she moves on." Dany winked at Robb across the table. Seriously, why were they always acting so suspicious?

“Huh. That makes sense.” Arya answered, twirling her quill in her fingers as she mulled over Dany’s solution. “Thanks.” She tapped the quill against her chin. "Well, these Arithmancy problems aren't going to do themselves, so I better hop to it. Thanks for the advice."

“No problem.”

Arya attempted to return to the Arithmancy problems at hand. Silence blanketed their table as everyone focused on their own work. They had a Hogsmeade visit coming up. She started on the next question. But who could she bring? Ned Dayne was a definite no after that dreadful date last year. Her quill scratched across the parchment. Edric Storm was kind of cute, but Gendry would know it was about him if she went out with his half-brother. Arya shook her head and glanced over her answers.

She groaned. Crumpling the paper full of incorrect solutions, she tossed it into the wastebasket next to the table.

Arya pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment from her knapsack. Ink dripped from the tip of her quill, collecting in small drops at the edge of her page. Leaning forward, Arya made deliberate strokes as she enumerated every step of each problem.

She sighed as she wrote down the last solution. She cleaned her quill with a quick spell and tucked it back into her bag. She blew the parchment dry before tucking it back into the unorganized folder.

“Well, all that hard work deserves a reward; I’m going to get a snack,” Arya announced as she stretched. “Anybody want anything?”

Rickon started to speak up, but Robb silenced him with a look. Sansa shook her head.

Bran looked up from his copy of _A History of Magic._ “I’m good, but you might want to go now to get what you want.” Arya rolled her eyes. Bran and his cryptic responses.

"Okay, I'm heading off." Arya stood from her chair, slinging her knapsack across one shoulder. She pushed her chair back in. "Good luck." She saluted the table. Sparing a glance toward Gendry and Elinor's vacated table, she scowled before tiptoeing through the library. The door creaked when she pulled it open. The empty corridor stretched on in both directions. Arya turned left, hustling in anticipation of some delicious pumpkin pasties from the kitchen. The door to the library opened again.

“Arya, wait!” Footsteps pounded against the stone floor behind her.

Arya turned around. Trystane Martell hurried down the corridor, holding the strap of his backpack. He skidded to a stop in front of her. Arya looked him up and down. She’d never really talked to Trystane, despite being in the same year.

"I wanted to ask you if you would want to go to Hogsmeade. Together."

“Oh.” Arya blinked. That was unexpected. “Like a date?”

“Yeah,” Trystane rubbed the back of his neck. “Although it’s still cool if you don’t—”

The buzzing gears in Arya’s head drowned out the rest of his sentence. “—I’m fine either way. I just think you’re pretty cool and—”

“Yes.” Arya brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You will? Oh cool." Trystane's tan cheeks flushed pink. It was a good look on him. "You're probably busy now, but we can meet up later to plan it?"

"I'd like that," Arya said. Trystane smiled and left down the opposite hallway. Arya waved goodbye. Trystane was nice; maybe he could be the one to make her forget the last two months. Everything would go back to normal—wouldn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise any dates for Chapter Four yet, as I'm working on something else for the end of February, but hopefully it won't take me quite as long to write Chapter Four, because I'm really excited for you guys to read it. ;)


	4. Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gendry spends his Hogsmeade visit with Elinor at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm still alive. 
> 
> I'm still riding high from last Sunday's Gendrya scenes, which were everything I never knew I wanted. Of course, they had to give us such lovely interactions with all the characters before they destroy everything this week lol. 
> 
> But anyway, if you want some pining before our collective imminent deaths on Sunday night, I'm your girl. This chapter is in Gendry's point of view. I hope you guys like it. ;)
> 
> As always, thanks to to the wonderful sansapotter for beta-reading. I'd also like to take a moment to thank everyone that has commented, bookmarked, or given kudos to this fic. Seeing all your thoughts and reactions really makes my day. If you've got the time, let me know what you think.

Gendry gazed out beyond the towering cakes that clogged the window display through the frosted window panes of Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop onto the streets of Hogsmeade. Fresh snow blanketed the sleepy village in a sea of sparkling white. A few straggling couples wandered through the street, waiting for tables to open up at the most popular establishments. Gendry spotted his friend Jon exiting Honeyduke's with Sansa. Still no sign of Arya. Gendry sighed, turning his attention back to the laminated menu in front of him.

“Thanks for doing this, by the way. I know it must be hard.”

Lowering his menu, he peered across the table at Elinor.

“I can’t say that enough,” Elinor continued, placing her menu down. “My break-up with Alyn almost destroyed me, but even if this doesn’t end the way I want it to, I’m glad to have met you, and Arya and Hot Pie too.” She squeezed his hand.

"You're welcome," Gendry responded before glancing around the tea shop. Students occupied every nook and cranny of the cramped shop floor. "It sure is crowded today."

“It’s always packed this time of year.” Elinor examined her pink nails.

A slender waitress sidled up to their table which was tucked in the front corner of the tea shop next to the window. “Welcome to Madam Puddifoot’s. My name’s Ros, and I’ll be your server today. Can I get you guys something to start off?”

"I'll have the rose tea and some strawberry shortcake, thank you," Elinor flashed her a dazzling smile.

“And for you?” Ros turned to Gendry.

"Earl Grey and almond cake, please," Gendry answered. Ros scribbled their orders down in a notepad before relieving them of their menus. As she disappeared into the kitchen, Gendry scanned the crowded restaurant again. His gaze landed on a suspicious couple seated near the back of the restaurant that he suspected were Robb and Dany, though it was hard to tell given their ill-fitting wigs and oversized sunglasses. A flash of silvery blonde hair peeked out from behind the girl's wig. A thick red mustache, obviously magicked into existence, covered the boy’s upper lip. Gendry narrowed his eyes at the odd couple. They both waved at him and gave him two thumbs up.

“Why are Robb and Dany sitting in the back corner in disguise?” Gendry whispered across the table.

"Dany said something about ‘moral support' and making sure everything went according to plan when I talked to her this morning," Elinor replied. "But yes, it is a little strange that they’re in such bad disguises.” She examined the odd couple even closer. “Those sunglasses are a little overkill.”

Ros appeared at the table with a tray balanced on her hand, blocking their view of Robb and Dany. "There you are.” She placed a delicate pink teacup and saucer in front of Elinor, before putting a matching set in front of Gendry. "Rose and Earl Grey teas." She completed the set by placing a pitcher of milk in the center of the table between them and then handed them each a slice of cake. “Let me know if you need anything else.” With that, Ros moved onto the next table.

Elinor dropped a spoon of sugar into her steaming cup as Gendry stabbed his almond cake with his fork. The moist cake melted in his mouth, the almond colliding with a hint of vanilla.

“This cake is delicious,” Gendry moaned.

"I know," Elinor sighed. "If this place weren't such a couples spot I'd probably be in here every Hogsmeade trip for the strawberry shortcake alone."

In his periphery, Robb gestured frantically at the door. Gendry raised a quizzical brow as he took a sip of his tea.

“The signal!” Elinor exclaimed. She whipped her head toward the front door. “Alyn must be coming in. Quick, grab my hand.” Gendry almost choked on his tea when she snatched his free hand, holding it tightly. “He’s got one of those dreadful Frey girls on his arm, ugh.” Frowning, she glared daggers at her ex-boyfriend’s unsuspecting date.

“Which one?” Gendry asked, placing his teacup back on its saucer.

Elinor shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.” Her gaze followed Alyn and his date as they trailed after the hostess through the restaurant to one of the tables in the back near Robb and Dany. Alyn held a chair out for the Frey girl. He looked up for a moment, his gaze falling on Elinor.

“Eep,” Elinor squeaked, flushing with anger or longing, Gendry couldn’t tell which, and ducked behind her teacup. Gendry watched the scene with interest, still holding Elinor’s hand. Alyn whispered something in his date’s ear before walking toward them.

“Oh my seven, he’s coming over here!” Elinor panicked, her fingers tensing. She put down her teacup and began to fiddle with a strand of her hair. “What do we do?”

"We follow the plan." Gendry gave her hand a squeeze. "You've got this. You're the best chaser on Slytherin—you've gotten the quaffle past me more times than I can count. You're a great girl, and if he can't see that, then it's his loss."

“You’re right,” she gave him a small smile as she put her hand down.

“Now remember, we’re madly in love,” he winked.

Elinor winked back, letting out a loud chuckle just as Alyn reached their table. He cleared his throat to get their attention. “Elinor, Gendry,” he nodded.

“Oh, hello Alyn,” Elinor greeted him coolly. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I heard a rumor you replaced me; I was just coming to see if it was true.”

"Well, obviously it's false," Elinor snarked, "since Gendry is a much better boyfriend than you ever were." She stroked Gendry's hand, gazing lovingly at his face for good measure.

“Do you love him?” Alyn crossed his gangly arms over his chest, trying to puff it out in an effort to not look like an overgrown beanpole. It wasn’t working.

Elinor froze, unsure how to answer such a question.

“I don’t think that’s your question to ask anymore,” Gendry interjected, fixing Alyn with his iciest glare. “Unless you’ve got something to say to her?”

Alyn gaped like a fish. At last, he uncrossed his arms.

“You’re right,” he said. “I never did deserve you, Elinor; I hope he makes you happy.” He shifted his weight, his gaze drifting to the floor. “Guess I’d better get back to my date. See you around.” With one last longing glance at Elinor, Alyn pivoted back toward his own table.

Elinor waited until he made it to his table before bursting into laughter.

“Did you see his face?” She chortled, slapping the table. “The plan is working perfectly. You,” she raised her teacup to him, “are an excellent actor, my dear fake boyfriend. That bit of overprotectiveness was an excellent touch.”

“Thanks.” They clinked their teacups together.

Ros swung past their table again, carrying a tray of dirty dishes. “I hope everything’s to your liking.”

“Everything is excellent,” Elinor responded.

“Great; here’s the check. I’ll be by to collect it later.” She dropped a tied scroll of parchment on the table. Elinor reached for her purse, but Gendry stopped her hand.

“I’ve got this.” He pulled a few jangling coins from his pocket, dumping them on top of the table.

The bell above the door to the teashop tinkled merrily as Ros sauntered away, heralding the arrival of another couple seeking a warm pot of tea and respite from the cold. Trystane Martell entered the shop, laughing as he stamped the snow off his boots. Arya followed in behind him, her face alight with the biggest smile Gendry had seen from her in weeks. It sent a dagger straight through his heart. While she divested herself of her winter cloak, Arya looked at the restaurant’s various patrons. When she noticed Gendry and Elinor, she froze; her smile disappeared.

“What is it?” Elinor asked.

“It’s Arya. On a date.”

Elinor turned around to wave hello. In response, Arya gave a weak smile before returning to her date. The hostess led them to the last empty table near the door.

“I’m the worst friend. Why can’t I be happy for her?”

Elinor paused, twirling her fork as she ruminated. At length, she said, “You're in love with her, aren't you?”

“Is it that obvious?” Gendry sighed, stabbing his almond cake with more force than necessary. “It doesn't really matter, though; Arya will never see me as anything but a friend.” He popped the cake in his mouth.

“I wouldn't be too sure about that.”

"Clearly she doesn't since she's here with Trystane." He shoveled in another mouthful of cake.

“Gendry, you dolt!” Elinor smacked his arm. “I know I said to keep it a secret, but maybe you should tell her that we're not actually together.”

Gendry paused, fork halfway between his plate and his mouth.

“This charade’s gone on long enough as it is. I was going to suggest we ’break-up’ next week and tell everyone we decided it would be better to stay friends anyway, now that we’ve lasted a while.”

“Are you sure Alyn will want you back?” Gendry took a sip of tea. It would get cold if he didn’t drink it fast enough.

“No, but that doesn’t really matter now. I’m not going to spend my life pining after someone who doesn’t want me. But you,” she poked him in the chest, “you definitely need to tell Arya how you feel.”

“Alright.”

A chair scraped across the floor elsewhere in the shop. The entire restaurant fell silent as they turned to see what the problem was. Arya stood up abruptly, face purple.

“You … you… jerk!” Arya screamed, her fists clenched. Gendry knew that look; he had been on the receiving end many a time. Arya snatched her teacup from the table, hurling the steaming liquid at Trystane’s chest. Without another word, she yanked her cloak off her chair, slinging it over her shoulders as she darted out the front door. The bell above the door rang violently.

Trystane blinked, pulling at his wet sweater.

“I’m going after her,” Gendry told Elinor as he pushed his chair back. Pushing past tables of gobsmack patrons, he whipped on his own cloak.

The bell chimed as he stepped outside into the cold winter air. The freshly fallen snow crunched under his feet. He followed Arya's tracks in the snow down the main street until he lost them among the scuffle. The biting wind nipped his nose, chilling him. He pulled his cloak tighter.

Jon rounded the nearest street corner, arm in arm with Sansa. Gendry jogged up to them.

“Have either of you seen Arya?” he asked.

Sansa pointed down a side road. “I think I saw her running down that way. Is something wrong?”

“Of course,” Gendry whispered to himself as the realization dawned on him. “I’m about to find out,” he told Sansa. He took off at a run down the road that led to the Shrieking Shack. Close-knit houses lined the street at the beginning but began to thin out as he approached the end of the way. The shrieking shack rose up in the distance, past the fence at the end of the road. Arya curled up against the gate, her face hiding behind her knees and a curtain of dark brown hair. At the sound of his footsteps, Arya looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, it’s you,” she sniffled, quickly rubbing the tears from her face. “If you tell anyone you saw me crying, I’ll kill you.”

Gendry laughed.

“My lips are sealed.” He dropped down next to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“I know you can handle it yourself, but if you ever need me to beat someone up, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Arya smiled faintly. Gendry stood up, holding out a hand.

“Come on; let’s get back inside where it’s warm.”

He hefted her up by her icy hand.

“Thanks.”

They walked back down the road in silence, shoulders almost touching. Gendry flexed his hand, itching to hold hers, but put it in his pocket at the last second. The alleyway opened onto a larger street lined with quaint cottages, each blanketed with a cap of pristine snow. A lopsided snowman occupied the corner of the lawn of the last house on the street, where it crossed onto the main road. Gendry laughed.

“That snowman kind of looks like Professor Varys, doesn’t it?” he said, pausing in front of it.

“You’re right,” Arya chuckled. "I feel like it's going to quiz me on the best methods of Occlumency."

“Miss Stark,” Gendry put on his best Varys impression, “what is the difference between—”

Trystane Martell barrelled around the corner, coming to a stop in front of them with a sheepish expression on his face. Arya tensed behind him. Gendry took a protective step forward, blocking Trystane from her view.

“Martell.” Gendry crossed his arms.

“Gendry,” Trystane blanched. “Hi.” He peeked around Gendry’s shoulder at Arya. “Arya, can we talk—” glancing up at Gendry’s stony expression, he gulped before adding, “—alone? I need to apologize.”

Arya answered after a long pause. “I guess.”

"Are you sure?" Gendry asked. "I can still punch him if you want me to."

“It’ll be fine, Gendry,” Arya scoffed, although her eyes told a different story. “Besides, if he messes up again I’ll just punch him myself.”

Trystane smiled faintly.

"Alright," Gendry answered. "I'll be back at the tea shop if you need me."

Arya nodded before following Trystane down the snow-covered street toward the Three Broomsticks. Gendry watched them as Trystane disappeared inside the pub first. Turning around, Arya motioned for him to leave. Gendry nodded. She smiled before heading inside.

With a heavy sigh, Gendry trudged back toward Madam Puddifoot’s and his fake girlfriend, desperately hoping that next week’s break-up wouldn’t be too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome.


	5. Arya Stark Knows Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya ends up sitting next to Gendry at the highly anticipated Hufflepuff v. Ravenclaw match and certain things come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The final chapter. I'm glad I got it finished before the final episode. Thanks to my wonderful beta reader sansapotter on Tumblr for that. 
> 
> Thank you so much to every person who has read, left kudos, commented, and bookmarked this story. I hope you enjoy it.

Candles flickered, casting dark shadows over the crowded patrons of the Three Broomsticks. Smoke hung thick in the air. Trystane stopped at the end of the bar to order them a couple of butterbeers. He nervously signaled to the bartender as Arya tapped her foot against the floor. The bartender placed two tankards of butterbeer, each overflowing with golden foam, on the bar. Trystane tossed down a few coins before taking the mugs. Weaving through the tables of students drinking their own butterbeer, he lead her to a small table in the back corner. Arya flopped into her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well?” she said. “This better be good.”

“Right,” Trystane stammered, passing her a tankard. “I should start by saying that I do think you’re cool and that I did want this date to go well.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” She took a big gulp of her butterbeer. The butterscotch bubbles bounced around her mouth before careening down her throat. “Why did you ignore me for half of the date and then tell me that I looked like 'a girl for once,'?”

Trystane gulped. “Okay, that does sound quite bad thinking about it now . . . I don’t know why I said that; you look pretty all the time. Can I make a confession?”

Arya raised a brow and gestured for him to continue.

“I wanted this date to work because I’m trying to get over Myrcella.”

Arya nearly choked on her butterbeer, the golden liquid dribbling out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, what?" She mopped the spilled butterbeer off the table. “Myrcella is your best friend, even I know that.”

Trystane glanced around the pub before lowering his voice. “I’ve been in love with her for years, but she’s too caught up in her crush on your older brother—" Arya spat out her butterbeer again, ”—To ever think of me as a possible romantic partner. I guess I thought I could get over my unrequited crush by trying to find someone else. I do admire you; you’re probably the coolest girl in the whole school.” Trystane hung his head. “I’m just too in love with Myrcella for this to have ever worked.” Arya stared at Trystane, the words to respond dying on the tip of her tongue. He fiddled with a napkin while he waited for Arya’s reply.

"I understand perfectly," Arya responded after she finished processing his confession. The part about Robb was particularly hard to wrap her head around. “I also have a confession to make. I said yes to this date because I’m trying to get over someone too.”

Trystane jerked up. “Gendry?”

“How did you know?” Arya gasped, flushing a deep crimson.

“Please; the whole school has shipped you two together since he stood up for you down by the lake in our first year. You know, I wouldn’t have asked you out if he was still single.”

“The whole school knows?” Arya panicked, the pitch of her voice rising with each word. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Had Gendry known this whole time?

“Relax,” Trystane assured her. “I don’t think he’s caught on yet.”

Arya breathed a sigh of relief. She gulped down the rest of her butterbeer.

“Where does that leave us?” she asked.

“I don’t think a relationship would work out.”

“Seconded. But I do think you’re cool. Friends?” Arya stuck out her hand.

Trystane grinned and took her hand. “Friends.”

* * *

 A week later, Arya glared at her ever-problematic Arithmancy homework. The equations seemed to swim together in impossible combinations, the numbers and letters blurring. She pounded her head against the desk. If only Elinor were here. The great clock chimed three times, piercing the silence of the library and startling her from her reverie. Arya bolted upright, one of her papers sticking to her face.

"Shoot!" she yelled, jumping from her chair as she shoved her papers haphazardly into her knapsack. Trystane, across the table, looked up from his History of Magic paper. "I'm late; Jon would kill me if I missed his last game."

Trystane nodded, cleaning off his quill. “I guess I should get going too. See you Tuesday, then?"

"Yep," Arya smiled. "Bye!" She darted out the library doors in a flurry, her furious footsteps pounding on the pavement floor as she dashed through the corridors. Outside, she sprinted down the hill, skidding to a stop at the spectator entrance. She paused for a moment, leaning against the door to catch her breath before she entered the stadium. Students milled about in the hallway, waiting for a chance to enter. Arya pumped her fist in victory; she made it just in time after all. She tapped her foot against the ground, waiting for the line to move. At last, she entered the stadium.

Perusing the stands for her sister, Arya wove through the large crowd assembled for the highly-anticipated Hufflepuff v. Ravenclaw match. She spotted Sansa in her usual seat, though she had swapped out her red and gold Gryffindor scarf for one of Jon’s. Arya waved to her as she climbed the steps to the top of the stands.

“Hey,” Arya greeted her sister when she reached Sansa’s mostly empty row. Sansa took removed her handmade sign with Jon’s name in perfect glittery letters from the seat so Arya could sit.

“I brought snacks.” Arya held out an assortment of sweets.

"Excellent," Sansa replied, taking a proffered chocolate frog.

Arya plopped onto the wooden bench beside her sister. “Are you nervous?”

“Nope,” Sansa answered, popping the frog into her mouth before it could escape. “Jon’s the best chaser at this school, and he’s been preparing for this match for weeks.” The pitch crackled to life as both teams entered the field. “Look! There he is,” Sansa sighed, her cheeks flushed.

Arya gagged.

"You know, sometimes, I wish you guys weren't so insufferable together, but then I remember how you were when you were both still pining, and this is infinitely better."

“Haha, very funny.”

Margaery's voice rang out through the stadium. "Welcome to today's match between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw." Arya cheered, clapping her hands. Margaery began to announce the player's names, but the noise of the crowd faded when she noticed Gendry climbing the stairs two at a time in a beeline for their row.

“What is he doing here?” Arya hissed, her heart pounding as he stepped closer. She curled in on herself, attempting to hide behind her much taller sister.

“I invited him to sit with us,” Sansa responded. “I thought you would want to sit with your best friend.”

Arya cursed under her breath. She still hadn't figured out what to do about her Gendry problem, which was precisely why she been avoiding him for the last week aside from Quidditch practice.

“Hello, Gendry.” Sansa smiled.

“Hey there,” Gendry grinned as he turned onto their row.

“Hi,” Arya squeaked, her voice suddenly an octave higher. Gendry plopped onto the seat beside her. Arya tensed, holding herself very still to avoid looking into his ocean blue eyes. She tried to concentrate on the game, but every now and then Gendry’s leg brushed against her, sending jolts of electricity through her body.

The whistle blew, and the players took off. Jon got the first possession of the quaffle. Leaning forward in her seat, Arya followed him down the field toward the Ravenclaw goalposts. He had nodded to his two other chasers, Gilly and Shireen, and they flew in formation to protect him from flying bludgers. Jon may have been the kindest and most loyal Hufflepuff in her acquaintance, but he was ruthless on the Quidditch pitch. He lobbed the quaffle straight down the center goal post. Arya, Sansa, and Gendry cheered; Sansa waved her sign like a maniac.

“That’s ten points for Hufflepuff!” Margaery’s disembodied voice rang out.

“He’s good,” Gendry remarked. “Wonder if he’ll share his strategies with us now that he’s graduating.”

“Yeah,” Arya replied, trying to keep her voice steady and not so high-pitched. “Then maybe we wouldn’t keep getting absolutely destroyed like the last time we played Hufflepuff. They don’t call him the Lord Commander for nothing.”

Gendry laughed.

One of the Hufflepuff beaters knocked a bludger into the Ravenclaw chaser, sending the quaffle spiraling into the air. Gilly soared in to catch it just before it hit the ground.

“Quiet, you two,” Sansa shushed them, leaning forward in her seat. “I’m trying to watch the game.”

“I didn’t even think you liked Quidditch that much.”

"I don't," Sansa answered. "But you, Robb and Jon like it, so I'm supporting you all. I even helped Jon come up with some new strategies for this game." She game Arya a smug smile.

Arya rolled her eyes but kept her commentary related to the game at hand.

Sometime after the snitch entered the pitch, Arya spotted Robb and Dany sitting together several rows down. Dany stuffed a handful of popcorn in her mouth. When they noticed that they had been discovered, they whipped back towards the game, whispering conspiratorially in each other's ears. What weirdos. Arya shook her head and thought nothing of it for the rest of the game.

The game passed in a couple of hours, much faster than Gryffindor's game against Slytherin last fall. Jon and the rest of the Hufflepuff crushed the Ravenclaw keeper in points so in the end the Ravenclaw seeker dove for the snitch to end their humiliation.

"Hufflepuff wins!" Margaery announced through the speaker.

Arya, Gendry, and Sansa leaped to their feet, yelling and clapping. Sansa pulled her sister into a crushing hug. Arya hugged her back before releasing her. The Hufflepuff team dove to the ground, tumbling off their brooms to dogpile on Jon in the center of the pitch. When they pulled back, Dickon Tarly and Dolorous Edd pulled Jon onto their shoulders. As his teammates carried him off the field, he searched the crowd. When he located Sansa and Arya, he waved. Sansa blew him a kiss.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Sansa scooted past them, bounding down the stairs through the crowd of students exiting the stadium to meet Jon outside the player’s tents. She only paused to give Robb a high-five.

The euphoria of the Hufflepuff victory faded, leaving only awkwardness behind. Gendry was looking at her again, the way he had while they were under the mistletoe at the Yule Ball.

“Guess we should head back in,” Arya broke the silence before she got lost in his blue eyes.

"Yeah," Gendry agreed. They joined the line that funneled out the door, walking together in uncomfortable silence until they made it back into the castle. Arya stopped in an empty corridor.

“I should go,” Arya said. “See you around.”

“When?” Gendry asked.

“I don’t know,” Arya answered, turning to leave. “Sometime.”

“Nope,” Gendry shook his head. “That’s not good enough.” He grasped her wrist, dragging her into a nearby closet. The door shut with a bang behind them, cloaking them in darkness.

“Lumos,” Gendry said, lighting the lantern hanging from the ceiling. Arya’s breath came fast and shallow as she noticed how close they were.

“You’ve been avoiding me again.” Gendry crossed his arms, stretching the muscles underneath his shirt.

Arya flushed.

“No, I haven’t,” She stammered, turning to leave the closet. Gendry put an arm up to stop her. Arya huffed, avoiding his searching gaze.

"Don't lie to me," Gendry implored. “Does it have something to do with Elinor? Because Elinor and I—”

"Elinor's fine." Arya snapped, crossing her arms.

"What is it, then?" He dropped his arm. ”Arya, please. I can’t lose you. You’re my best friend.” His voice broke on the last sentence.

“You want to know what’s wrong?” She whirled to face him, full of fury as her heart sped up like it was on fire. “What’s bothering me is that I’m so jealous that I can’t think straight.”

“What? I don’t understand—”

“Gendry, you dolt. I don’t want you to kiss her stupid face, I want you to kiss me!” Arya gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. Her pulse quickened; had she just said that out loud?

Gendry stood dumbstruck.

“I’m so sorry,” Arya apologized, paling. “Forget that ever happened.”

The gears turned in Gendry’s head.

“Do you like me?” He asked after a moment’s contemplation.

“I thought that was kind of obvious from my desire to make out with you.”

A wide smile spread over Gendry’s face. “Elinor and I—”

“I don’t want to hear about how happy you are with your girlfriend.” Tears welled in Arya’s eyes as she turned away.

“You don’t understand.” Gendry grabbed her shoulders. “Elinor and I were never actually together—she was using me to make her ex-boyfriend jealous. And we' fake broke-up' a week ago."

“What?” It was Arya’s turn to be dumbfounded.

Gendry pulled her close, cupping her cheek with one hand. “Arya, I’ve been in love with you for years.”

"Really?" Arya murmured as he closed his eyes and leaned down.

“Since the moment I met you,” he breathed.

She punched him in the arm.

“That’s for lying to me,” she said.

“Arya, I . . .”

Arya surged forward, devouring him in a bruising kiss. She molded herself against him, reaching her arms around his neck to pull him closer. His hand gripped her hip, setting her aflame.

They separated when the need for air became too high.

“Wow,” Gendry panted.

"You can say that again," Arya smirked, shoving him against the wall of the broom closet to dive back in.

A broom clattered to the floor.

Arya winced.

“Do you want to go somewhere without brooms?” Gendry asked.

“Yes.” Arya laced her fingers through Gendry’s and pushed the door open. After checking that the coast was clear, she pulled him out into the corridor. They walked hand in hand through the hallway. “I’m curious; how did Elinor rope you into her being her fake boyfriend in the first place?”

Gendry rubbed the back of his neck as he walked. “Robb and Dany apparently suggested me to her as a viable candidate when she was looking for a date to the Yule Ball.”

Arya halted. “Robb and Dany?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why, though.”

“I do,” Arya groaned gritted her teeth as she thought on every interaction she’d had with those two meddlers. The strange comments at the victory party; the yellow dress that Dany picked out and the mysterious mistletoe at the Yule Ball; Dany's surefire plan for getting over Gendry; she even thought she recognized them sitting at a table in the back corner while she was on her date with Trystane. She smacked her forehead. “We’re so oblivious. They've been trying to set us up for months." She stormed down the hallway, their earlier plans wholly forgotten.

“Where are you going?” Gendry struggled to keep up with her fast pace.

“Come on; we’ve got to concoct a revenge plot.”

“Revenge? What for?”

“I’m tired of their meddling.” She paused just before they entered the main hallway, her fists clenched.

"How are we going to do it?" Gendry asked.

A sly grin spread across Arya’s face.

“Gendry, I know what we’re going to do today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all my readers! I had a blast writing for this and I hope you liked reading it. :)
> 
> I am working on another fic but no promises on when that's coming out because it is a MONSTER and I have two other WIPs. Whoops.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> If you're interested in reading more, please subscribe. I'm a very irregular updater . . .
> 
> Also please leave a comment if you feel so inclined. :)


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